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o V 



Nature's Allegories 



P 



AND 



oems 



>^ 



BY 

MAUD DUNKLEY 



^ 






NEW YORK: 

The PHiLosoPHic Company 

1903 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 


Twe Copies 


Received 


SEP 9 


1903 


Copyfight 

Apr- 9. 


Entry 


CUkSS Cu 

6 '^0 


XXc. No 


COPY 


B. 






International Copyright 1903 

By 
The Philosophic Company 



All rights reserved. 



To all those who love Nature's ways and 
see therein teachings of truth, this little hook 
is affectionately dedicated. 





CONTENTS. 




I. 


Wild Hyacinth . 


9 


II. 


High and Low Life Among 






Flowers . 


21 


III. 


The Wild Winds Blow 


33 


IV. 


Night Whisperers 


37 


V. 


The Frost Elves . 


47 


VI. 


The Moonbeams and the 






Dewdrops 


69 


VII. 


The Birth of the Winds 


. 81 


VIII. 


The Icicle . . . . 


85 


IX. 


Worlds that so Bright Appear 


93 


X. 


Thistledown 


97 


XI. 


A White Pansy 


107 


XII. 


Sweetpeas . ... 


111 


XIII. 


Serenata 


119 


XIV. 


The Leaf Elves . 


123 


XV.'' 


^ Norma 


131 




WiiXi fl^acinti). 



WILD HYACINTH. 

Was it the reflection of the sapphire sky 
seen through the budding branches of tlie 
trees overhead, or was it in reahty a hv- 
ing carpet of flowers, spreading through 
the wood on every side, tingeing the 
glades and winding tree-girt glens with 
an all-pervading blush of the deepest 
royal blue? 

A fairy land, a transformation scene, 
burst into life by the magic touch of 
spring! 

The soft young wind rustled through 
the early foliage, and, sweeping over the 
billowy floral sea, set the hyacinth bells 
a-ringing in a thousand joyous chimes, 
and murmured gently to the dark bough 
looking so elegantly slender against the 
skyey background, till, bursting with exu- 

11 



berant delight, they sprouted profusely at 
the sigh of his tender breath. 

A chorus of birds filled the air as they 
flew hither and thither in search of ma- 
terials for the building of their little 
homes, each singing happily to his chosen 
mate, of the great joys yet to come. 

A time of youth and spring, a time of 
love and the mating of Nature's loveliest 
and best. 

'*Who are those strange creatures?" in- 
quired a little bird of her mate, as a 
youth and maiden entered the glade and 
passed side by side through the winding 
labyrinth of bloom. 

'^ Mortals," replied her companion, hop- 
ping to a higher bough that he might 
better view the strange pair; for seldom 
was the solitude and privacy of the 
woods disturbed. 

^'Mortals," he continued; ''they seem 

12 



very happy, and look with appreciating 
eyes upon our woodland glen; perhaps 
they also are planning out their future 
days." 

''Yes," replied she, "they certainly da 
look very happy." 

''Ah," her companion continued, flying 
down again, "I wonder if they can hear 
the hyacinth bells ; they say these mortals 
are very deaf and very blind." 

"0, surely they can hear the chimes 
the fairy fays are ringing. Hark! how 
joyously they peal, and yet they have no 
nests to build, no eggs to lay, and no 
little ones to rear." 

"We know not of their happiness, but 
that they are happy is very certain. 
What constitutes their joy, I cannot say, 
— unless it is the flooding of the sunshine, 
the soft kisses of the wind, or the gentle 
falling of the twilight dew." 

13 



''Perhaps 'tis all," replied his little wife: 
and as the deep blue billows bowed before 
the fanning breeze, peal after peal of their 
rich bell-notes rang out. 

"How softly the wind is blowing; how 
gently and tenderly it stirs the cluster of 
my bells; they sway before him, but they 
tremble to his touch — I have to shake 
them into sound!" 

So sang a tiny fay sitting on one of 
the blue petals of her hyacinth blossoms. 

"Yes," answered another, swaying from 
his bending stem, "the wind is soft, the 
sunshine warm ; my bells, well washed in 
dew, are rich and sweet ; the world is very 
beautiful, and I am very happy." 

"They say the world is not so beautiful 
outside our fairy dell." 

"So I have heard; a bullfinch told me. 
He says the world is great with cities in 
whose dusty, flow^rless streets are stones 

14 



and dirt and barrenness. The dwellings 
of men, he says, are dark, heavy and 
gloomy; sickness and death full oft invade 
them; brightness and sunshine in their 
overcrowded alleys are a luxury and a 
rarity." 

"How can he tell these things?" 

"He was once among them, confined 
within the glittering bars of a prison- 
house hung in the window of one of these 
dwellings." 

"And he escaped?" 

"Yes, he escaped, and after awhile, 
refound his woodland home." 

"Poor mortals! how delightful a breath 
and sight of us must be to them in their 
dusty, cheerless homes." 

"Well, yes, they value us, I have heard 
it said; we brighten their darkness and 
help to pierce their blind despair." 
. A^ this moment there came in sight 

15 



the two mortals who had astonished the 
simple little hen-bird; and one of them, 
chancing to notice in particular the very 
hyacinth who had so kindly spoken, 
stooped, and quite unconscious of the 
tender-hearted little fay, with a smile of 
admiration, plucked the flower, placed it 
with many others in the bunch she held 
in her hand, and passed on, leaving the 
little fay's comrade trembling with fright 
and grief. He had lost his play-fellow — 
she had passed out of his life ; her faint 
cry of pain as her stalk had snapped 
asunder smote his ear long after her fare- 
well sigh had died away upon the breeze. 

Recovering from her fright, the little 
stolen blossom began to look about her. 
She was being carried past fields and trees 
out into the brilliant sunshine. The two 
mortals were laughing and talking to- 
gether, and occasionally paused to gather 

16 



a stray flower or leaf to swell their already 
overcharged bouquet. 

The sun was bright, the way was long 
and dusty, and the hand that held the 
flowers was hot and close. The poor little 
fay felt suffocated, the stiff stalk of her 
bell- cluster grew limp, the petals of her 
blossoms drooped, and she hung her head 
and wept. 

Presently the clasp around her stem re- 
laxed, and she felt herself gradually slip- 
ping away out of its pressure. At last 
she dropped, unnoticed, on the sidewalk 
of the street, for by this time they had 
entered the town and left the country far 
behind them. The pair passed on and were 
soon out of sight, while the poor little 
fay lay with her drooping bells upon the 
hot, dry sidewalk, with the scorching rays 
of the sun beating down mercilessly upon 
her unsheltered and unprotected head. 

17 



She grew fainter and fainter; limper 
and limper grew her stem and lower and 
lower sank her fading blossoms, when, ah! 
steps approached, someone stooped and 
picked up the fallen hyacinth, and, screen- 
ing it from the fierce glare beneath his 
tattered coat, carried it swiftly and joy- 
fully away. 

When once again siie opened her eyes, 
she found herself lying on a rough wooden 
bench, while a little ragged urchin was 
filling a broken jar with water. This 
done, he placed the limp stalk of the 
hyacinth in the cool, clear liquid, and 
propped the drooping bells against the 
window ledge. 

The cool draught of water gradually 
revived the flower, and the little fay, 
looking about her, perceived, crouching 
against the window sill, a poor, thin little 
figure with a pale, pinched face. She was 

18 



regarding the hyacinth with unfeigned 
dehght, and thanking her ragged com- 
panion, who stood silently looking on. 

'^It's a real beauty, Jimmy. Where did 
you get it?'' she queried. 

''Down the street — someone must have 
dropped it/' was the reply. 

''How fine it is! look at those pretty 
bells. It is reviving — my! what a lovely 
color." 

The little fay thrilled with delight as 
she saw the happiness depicted on the 
pallid face of the child before her. And 
it was her presence that had brought it 
there! The pain of her own affliction and 
loss vanished, chased into nothingness by 
the absorbing joy created by an unselfish 
and loving thought. She trembled with 
pleasure, and drinking long and deep of 
the cool, refreshing liquid, her stalk grew 
firm once more, her bells regained 

19 



their former lustre and sent forth peal 
upon peal of fairy music. 

So the hours passed by; night came on^ 
and closing her petals, the little fay slept 
the sleep of the kindly-hearted, awaking 
with the sun next morning to bloom 
through another day, watched by the 
eager eyes of the little child. 





tgi) anU iLo\» iltfe 



HIGH AND LOW LIFE AMONG 
FLOWERS. 

The dreamy strains of the waltz float 
through the crowded ball-room, and the 
air is fraught with the essence of languid 
exhilaration. 

Of all the beautiful daughters of 
humanity gathered in that brilliant 
throng, there is one who by her imperial 
beauty outshines them all. She is the 
belle, and against the dazzling snowdrift 
of her bosom rests a spray of flowers. 

The night advances. The heat and 
glare of the room begin to tell upon the 
floral decorations. 

'^ This is insufferable, I am stifling/' 
sighed a violet in the bouquet of the 
belle. 

'' The air is foul, though the heat is 

23 



agreeable/' responded a gardenia next 
her. 

^' The heat agreeable! It is parching/' 
moaned the violet. " I am becoming 
weak and limp; it is draining my vitality." 

'^ The impure atmosphere and glare are 
tarnishing my beauty; I feel my petals 
begin to shrivel/' bewailed the gardenia. 

'^ 0, for the cool, green glade of my 
birth/' murmured the violet. 

'^ 0, for the unsullied warmth of my 
hothouse home/' groaned the gardenia, 
^' that I might once more nestle my 
pearly petals among my parent's glossy 
leaves." 

'^You surely cannot pine for warmth! 
Pine rather for the cool, invigorating 
breath of the fresh, young wind; or for 
the clear, life-renewing dew which settles 
in delicious drops upon one's parched 
and weary frame. The hothouse? Bah! 

24 



Why pine for that? You have a hot- 
house here.'' 

^^A hothouse here ! Poor flowerlet, you 
cannot know of what you speak. Have 
you ever breathed the air of a hothouse?" 

^' Never, nor do I ever wish to/' re- 
sponded the violet. " I have heard many 
a time of your greenhouses, with their 
hot, suffocating atmosphere and pale, 
languid beauties. The shady vale and 
cool, brisk breeze for me. I wish not for 
the listless life of you sickly aristocrats." 

" Sickly aristocrats, indeed! You 
speak in ignorance, poor, lowly blossom 
that you are. But how should you speak 
otherwise? What know you of the lus- 
cious intensity of the lives led by our 
higher grade of flowers? What do you 
know of the delicate perfection of our 
tint, the transparency of our forms, and 
the refinement and delicacy of our 

25 



scent? We are, indeed, the aristocracy 
of the floral world." 

'' I know that with all your delicacy 
and refinement, your pale beauty cannot 
compare with the rich tints of many of our 
members, the perfection of their forms, or 
the sweetness of their perfume. Nor can 
you, with all your cultured breeding and 
luxuriance, outshine the general loveliness 
of our class." 

" Nonsense! Pure nonsense! Yours is 
but a coarse plebian beauty, very good 
in its way, I daresay, but not to be com- 
pared with the delicacy and refinement 
of ours." 

'' Not so. Ours is not a coarse beauty; 
it is vivified with a rich coloring which 
your pallid loveliness lacks." 

" We are not pallid, we are a fair and 
palely-tinted race, our color etherealized 
and spiritualized to a glow of wondrous 

26 



beauty. Our very scent is delicate, and 
steeps the soul of mortals in infinite 
delight.'' 

'^Your fragrance is overbearing, and 
mortals find it so ; different to ours, which 
gladdens the heart of man and sweetens 
every passing breeze.'' 

^^ Nonsense again! Your perfume oft 
grates upon the sense, and in some of 
your members it is indeed obnoxious." 

At this moment a cold draught of air 
blew upon the limp, emaciated flowers, 
and immediately afterwards they were 
crushed beneath the heavy folds of a 
wrap. When again they were uncovered, 
it was to be plucked ruthlessly from the 
bosom they had in their beauty adorned 
and carelessly cast aside to ebb out their 
fleeting lives in the cold grey dawn of 
morning upon the be jeweled dressing 
table of the ball's fair belle. 

27 



A garden, beautiful as a dream. Its 
balmy air fragrant with the breath of 
every species of flower that grows. 

A hazy radiance spreads over the con- 
fines of this enchanted region in which 
each season has its own domain and 
reigns with perpetual, uninterrupted sway. 
It is the pleasure ground of Flora, into 
which the disembodied spirits of the two 
contending flowers are being wafted. 

As they reach the borders of this 
radiant land, they are enveloped in a 
thick, white mist, then caught suddenly 
in the arms of the wind and ushered un- 
ceremoniously into the domain of Spring. 

Hardly have they entered before their 
attention is arrested by a faint chime of 
bells, and they come upon a group of little 
snowdrops, their white blossoms gracefully 
suspended from their fragile stems above 

28 



the hard, brown surface of the earth. 

But on they are borne, past banks of 
sad-eyed primroses and gaily-colored 
crocuses, on into the seclusion of a green 
and mossy dell. 

'^ My home/' murmured the shade of 
the violet. ^' Ah! me! the breath of my 
sisters is upon the gale, their deep, royal 
purple is decking the grassy banks. How 
sweet and how secluded is this spot — ah, 
me, that I might lay my restless spirit 
down upon the bosom of my parent sod!" 

But on, on, they are borne, on into the 
summer sunshine. Here many and varied 
are the flowers that meet their view, and 
every turn brings fresh species and won- 
ders to their astonished sight. The tall, 
graceful lily here blossoms in its sweet- 
ness and purity, breathing to the wind 
its gentle whispers of chastity and truth; 
the queenly rose blooms in its rich 

29 



voluptuousness, diffusing upon the air 
around the flood of its identity — warm, 
profuse, intense ; the blue-eyed forget-me- 
not, the innocent daisy, the hardy wall- 
flower and delicious mignonette bloom in 
careless profusion and fill with wonder 
and contrition the conscious spirit of the 
gardenia. 

^' That so much sweetness and beauty 
should exist without one's knowledge! 
How ignorant and foolish I have been in 
my boastful arrogance. Here are hun- 
dreds and thousands of flowers and plants 
of whose species and very existence I was 
totally ignorant. Among the middle or 
lower grade of flower-life I find distributed 
a loveliness and a fragrance unsurpassed. 
But, ah! whither are we wafted? I 
breathe my native air — these wax-like 
blossoms are familiar, these dark, green 
glossy leaves — it is — it is my home!" 

30 



''How exquisitely beautiful! What 
world is this?" exclaimed the violet beside 
her, pausing before a richly blooming 
orange bough. '' And, 0, whence this 
delicious perfume? What tints, what 
glorious tints are these, ethereally trans- 
parent in their flesh-like hue?" 

She gazed about her in bewilderment. 
On every side new loveliness met her view ; 
the wax-like camelia, the rich-scented 
petals of the stephanotis, the delicate, 
fantastic orchids; the pure, rich tints 
of the begonia; the stately calla lily, 
the azalea, the sensitive mimosa, and 
many other floral gems too numerous 
to mention. 

A sweet flowering myrtle next attracted 
her. 

" Ah, beauteous flower, thou, even as 
our rose, the type of love. Ah, shame to 
me, that with untutored mind I scorned 

31 



in ignorance the surpassing beauty and 
merits of you unknown tropic flowers. 
Our common parent is most wise. In 
ignorant, boastful pride we ridiculed each 
other and our different or(3ers, till by 
a kindly hand we were guided hither to 
be cured of our willfulness and pointed to 



our error. '^ 



''You are right," replied the contrite 
gardenia, '' ours it is to bloom in our 
allotted sphere, one not better than an- 
other, all living our flower-day life, simply, 
cheerfully and contentedly." 

She ceased, and darkness wrapped 
the spot. 

The following day the dead flowers were 
picked up from the dressing table where 
they had lain and were thrown from the 
window into the garden below. -^ 



32 



III. 



Cf)e l^ilti WinU asioto. 



THE WILD WINDS BLOW. 

The wild winds blow 
O'er the bleak moor side, 
Through the naked forest 
The stream doth glide. 

The trunks of the trees 
Are bare and brown, 
And the twigs by the wind 
Are shaken down. 

O'er the soft moist earth 
Where the dead leaves lie, 
The sharp March breeze 
Is sweeping by. 

O'er the marshy moor 
Where the reeds grow wild 
And the rushes bow 
To Spring's first child. 

A desolate day 
Like the desolate heart, 
'Ere the warn: sun of love 
Doth life imp ait 

35 



:,■■ 



r ,j5- 



fe^— W 



ifiperersi. 




NIGHT WHISPERERS. 

The tarn lay still. Its cradle, gloomy, 
melancholy, and dull, sunk deeply at the 
base of the mountains, weird and awful in 
the majesty of might and solitude. Slug- 
gish and dreamless was the water's sleep 
beneath the chill bleak twilight sky; gray 
shadows, phantom-like, stole over the 
ground; the lingering light of day 
gleamed fainter with expiring life; the 
wind moaned piteously and sighed, as with 
reluctant will he swept with fitful gusts 
the bleak moorside and mount-locked 
tarn, and rustled with his mournful breath 
the rushes 'round the wild duck's nest. 
Closer pressed the loving bosom of the 
mother bird upon her sleeping brood 
of young, and, calling in wonder to her 
mate who lay as boat at anchor on the 

39 



sleepy surface of the tarn, she said. 

'^ Why moans the wind? What seeks 
he in his night's bleak wanderings? Why 
sighs he so? His voice is lonesome, sad." 

'^I know not; ask him, when again he 
comes, what sorrow is it that he carries 
on his wings." 

^^I will, when he descends the mountain 
heights and sweeps with his breath the 
surface of the mere ; he is too heartlone to 
do us mischief or to give us pain." 

Once more the mountain hollows 
echoed with a sigh, once more the surface 
of the tarn was crumpled into rippling 
waves, and once more did the rushes bow 
before the sad night breeze. 

''Stay, stay ! " the wild duck cried. 
''Why moanest thou thus, wind? What 
sorrow dost thou bear upon thy wide- 
spread wings? Say, for I feel for thee 

40 



thy trouble must be great, or thou couldst 
not steep the silent night so deep with 
tearless sighs. What mighty woe is 
thine?" 

'^What woe is mine?" the wind with 
plaintive wail replied . ^ ^ What woe is mine ? 
Ah me! a woe so great that steeps my 
being in agony supreme. A woe that 
must find vent, and pour itself in 
Nature's deepest, choicest solitudes, there 
to receive the balm of blest relief, there 
to unburden and discharge some of its 
overladen and suppressed despair. What 
woe is mine? The great woe of the Uni- 
verse, the sorrows of a struggling world! 
The lonely moor, the mountain solitude, 
and e'en the vast immensity of ocean's 
might, all, all have. heard my cry. They 
take my woe and answer back again, till 
we are spent, exhausted, calmed — calmed 
by the soothing magic of a voiceless avm- 

41 



pathy, a force supremely vast and won- 
derful that bids us wail and wail and find 
relief. Such is my sorrow, tender-hearted 
bird, and such the reason why I moan." 

^^Ah! great indeed is thy sorrow. The 
voice of earth art thou, and bearest in thy 
sigh the utterance of a universe. But 
wind, wind of night, one question more 
is there that I would ask: Earth has its 
sorrow, true; but has it then no joy? So 
beautiful it is, so manifold and wonderful ! 
Joy surely there must be ; nor grief alone 
hid in its deepmost hollows and ravines. 
The brightness of the morning sun, the 
golden warmth and glory of the day, the 
joy of being and the love of life, and light 
of love that beats within our wild-fowl 
breast — are these as naught? And is it 
in our world, our narrow world alone, that 
joy and gladness only then are found? " 

^^Joy? joy? There is no joy. The 

42 



hollow shadow called joy endure th not. 
Joy- joy- what is it? Happiness, delight, 
but passing fancies of an hour, shadows 
that melt and fade away in ungrasped 
and unapproached nothingness and gloom. 
No; wail on, poor Earth! swept with the 
throes of deep affliction and despair." 

^^No joy! no joy! " 

^^Nay, the night- wind erreth,'^ spake a 
star, his faint voice trembling from above ; 
'^his wailing makes him sore. I am above 
the wind, and from another sphere behold 
the earth and all things on her bosom. 
Unprejudiced I behold and judge most 
differently, wind! The sorrows of the 
earth are in thy voice, 'tis true; and also 
anger when the Universe doth rise and 
shake with tempests in her rage ; but love 
is there, and joy, and pure delight. For 
when with gentle touch ye fan the flowery 
mead, or flap with joy the white sail at 

43 



the mast, or rustle with a sweet dehght 
the leafy foliage of the sun-kissed trees, 
then, then the joy and love and life break 
forth from the awakened sod, and cry 
with many voices to the wind of heaven! 
Created life re-lives, humanity shakes off 
the trammels of a dust-worn life and 
breathes, and cries rejoicing, This is 
Spring! ' Nay, joy then is on earth, in 
every form, in every land; and every 
tongue doth give it forth, proclaims it 
unto heaven. Sorrow and joy go hand in 
hand, go side by side, for what is sorrow 
but the shadow-form of Joy; one, in the 
great pervading, all-absorbing soul of 
Harmony? Seek it, wind! and fear to 
pass it by. Tis there around thee ; bear 
it on thy wings. Then even thy midnight 
voices will have a triumphant sweetness 
in their melancholy all their own. Bear 
it then with thee on thy wings, and whis- 

44 



per o'er the lives and through the souls of 
earth's great progeny the magic word of 
Joy! Bid them cherish it, seek to make 
it theirs — not the mere semblance of a 
joy, but Joy, pure, undefiled and innocent; 
the joy within the reach of all, the joy 
created, nourished, bedded in each tiny 
living germ. Capacity for love, the power 
of true delight, teach thou then this, and 
not the nurture of a self-afflicted grief to 
darken with a cloud each life. Teach this 
instead, and whisper of a soul-created 
Love, a soul-created Joy! ' 

The pale star ceased; the wind, cor- 
rected, sank to rest and moaned no more; 
the wild duck's heart grew glad, as the 
gray dawn broke, and warm rays of 
yellow light streamed forth above the 
mountain tops and gilded with golden 
glory the still surface of the silent mere. 
Day broke, earth threw aside her sombre 

45 



shroud; the heron greeted the golden 
morn; the wild duck's brood awoke, and 
led by their tender mother, soon dotted 
the awakening bosom of the mountain 
tarn lying bathed in the brilliant blushes 
of the day. 




46 




\'. 



Cf)e jTrost €l\)es. 



THE FROST ELVES. 

'Tis a clear, cold, frosty night. 

The town, with its big houses and high 
church steeples, glistens in the moonbeams, 
and floods of yellow light stream from 
countless windows behind whose shelter- 
ing screen crowds of happy children are 
enjoying the last evening of the^old year. 

And beyond the town lies the country — 
a vast expanse of sparkling wilderness, 
the trees and bushes standing out in 
white symmetry against the sapphire sky. 
Silence reigns around, unbroken save by 
the occasional falling of a twig which 
some passing breeze shakes from its rest- 
ing place. And yet the air is alive with 
motion: myriads of little figures, white 
and sparkling as the frost itself, and but 
a fraction of an inch in height, are hurry- 

49 



ing with all the speed their tiny silvered 
wings permit towards the great forest 
shadowed in the distance. 

Joining a group of them we find our- 
selves flying swiftly through the air, and 
at last we enter the wood. It is darker 
here, for the overarching branches, leafless 
though they be, are so intertwined and 
so fantastically clothed in their glittering 
frost- garb, that the pale moonbeams 
cannot force their way through the 
crystal roof. 

On we go, deeper and deeper into the 
forest, and after proceeding a long distance 
we reach the entrance of a beautiful glade. 
Here one seems to be in an enchanted 
land; frost sprites are hurrying in all 
directions, and pressing eagerly forward 
towards the head of the glen, which pre- 
sently bursts upon our view. 

What a scene is this! A wide open 

50 



space surrounded by the frost-clad forest 
trees. In the background a group of 
spruce firs spread their feathery arms on 
high, whilst in the centre of the glen a 
beautiful silver birch rears itself from a 
mound of earth slightly higher than the 
neighboring ground. A holly bush, too, 
stands near by, rich in its bright red 
berries and dark green leaves frost-frilled 
along their peaked and indented edges. 

Under the birch tree are seated rows 
and rows of the old frost elves — Frost 
Elders as they are called — little figures 
with white streaming hair and beards, and 
long loose robes scarcely distinguishable 
from the surrounding whiteness of the 
snow-clad earth. Seated on a knoll at the 
root of the tree is a venerable elf, notice- 
able among the others by the shining frost 
crown which encircles his temples, and the 
star tipped wand he carries in his hand. 

51 



A space is cleared before him, beyond 
which the frost elves in countless numbers 
have assembled, and are still assembling. 
They cover the branches of the surround- 
ing trees, resting comfortably on the peaks 
of the holly leaves and even on the red 
berries themselves; and all are fluttering 
their wings impatiently for the time to 
arrive when the old frost king will elect 
his successor, from a band of chosen elves 
who have been selected for the purpose 
on account of their useful deeds and good 
behavior during the preceding year. 

The time draws nigh, the elves are 
nearly all gathered, and only arrive in 
straggling twos and threes. At last the 
old king rises, and advancing to the edge 
of the knoll, addresses the multitude 
before him : 

''My children! during the past year I 
have been privileged to rule as your king, 

52 



and have monthly held my court and 
councils in my palace hall in the North. 
I have sent you forth as bands of commis- 
sioners with work to do in all parts of the 
earth, wherever you could penetrate, and 
withstand the deadly influence of our 
enemies, the sunbeams. Ah! their power 
is indeed strong, and many are the frost 
elves who have fallen victims to their fatal 
smile, or who have been chased back over 
the border line of the frigid zone by their 
ruthless pursuers, the thaw spirits. Many, 
too, are the victories won by my faithful 
subjects over that degenerate brood; full 
oft have you withstood their mischievous 
inroads; many a time have you turned 
and locked fast your tormentors in a chill 
embrace, till the slothful sunbeams came 
to their rescue. Often during the pa»t 
year have you made noble sauies into tne 
southern regions, powdered their fields and 

53 



forests with the beautiful garb we so de- 
light in, and locking their rivers in an ice- 
bound sleep have so rested their weary 
waters. 

''But at the same time you have erred, 
my children. You have also been mis- 
chievous ; crept into the houses of mortals, 
breathed upon their window panes, cracked 
their glasses, frozen their milk, and other- 
wise played havoc in their larders! Then 
you have pinched their noses and ears, 
bitten their fingers and toes, and, glazing 
their streets, have caused many a broken 
limb. 

''Still worse, you have been cruel, my 
frost elves! You have frozen many a 
homeless bird, and hardened the earth so 
long as to starve many a winged songster ; 
then you have nipped the young and 
tender leaf buds. Ah! you have often 
been careless, mischievous and cruel! 

54 



And you know, my frost elves, for every 
fault you will have to suffer; and each 
time you abuse your power, the sun- 
beams and thaw spirits are ordained your 
chastisers." 

He paused, and looking around, con- 
tinued : 

^^ During the past year you have been 
good, faithful subjects to me, and now 
that my reign draws to a close, I am here 
to- appoint one of the chosen band to suc- 
ceed me as your ruler; then will I take 
my place henceforth among the Elders.'^ 

He resumed his seat, and all the elves 
with one accord arose and burst into the 
following song: 

Fare thee well, dear Father Frost! 
Naught from thy teaching have we lost ; 
In the future thou shalt see 
How kindly we will strive to be. 

55 



Fare thee well, our Ruler kind! 
A better we can never find; 
Among the elders take thy place, 
But show us first the new king's face. 

Fare thee well! there ne'er was seen 
A better reign than thine has been, 
Honor, glory, praise is due, 
Ruler Frost, from us to you. 

Scarcely had this song died away when 
a sound resembling the tinkling of tiny 
glass bells was heard, and a procession of 
imps, dressed after the fashion of pages, 
appeared, advancing towards the spot 
where the old king was sitting. Each elf 
carried a tiny ice bell suspended from a 
long wand, and the motion of their steps 
as they walked caused the bells to send 
forth peals of delicious music. Behind 
these pages came the chosen band of elves 

56 



marching two by two, their feet keeping 
time to the music as they marched. 

They passed in a winding procession be- 
fore the rows of elders, and finally stood 
in a semi-circle around the old king. The 
imps, with their bells, took up their posi- 
tion on either side of the tree, and stood 
motionless and silent as he arose and 
began to examine the elves waiting 
around him. 

They were twenty-four in number, and 
all exceedingly beautiful; their little gar- 
ments, surpassingly white and clean, fitted 
without a wrinkle to the slender limbs and 
graceful figures of their owners. Their 
tiny transparent wings glistened like 
gossamer in the moonlight, and were 
nervously fluttering with expectation; 
their little faces were aglow with excite- 
ment, and their pale grey eyes anxiously 
watched their king as he keenly scrutinized 

57 



every elf in succession, scanning each from 
head to foot to see whether there was the 
slightest spot or stain on either himself or 
his garments, which would at once inform 
him that the elf had sinned. For the least 
wilful error or fault committed by a frost 
elf leaves a stain upon him that nothing 
will remove. There were few spots to be 
seen, still the sharp eyes of the old king 
noted them, and caused him to inquire 
into their origin. On two elves alone he 
could find no stain; so, drawing them into 
the centre of the ring, he addressed them 
as follows: 

"Of all the twenty-four elves chosen for 
me to select a successor from, you are the 
only two upon whom I can find no stain; 
it remains to me, therefore, to appoint one 
of you king — which one I am at present at 
a loss to say, for both of you being spot- 
less, are, to all appearances, equally en- 

58 



titled to the kingdom. There must, 
however, be some difference between you, 
and it is now my duty to find out what 
that difference is; therefore, I wish you 
each to relate to me the history of your 
adventures during the past year. Elf on 
the right, begin." The king resumed his 
seat, while the elf began as follows : 

FIRST elf's story. 

"I was sent forth with some thousands 
of my brothers to go and repair the mis- 
chief perpetrated by our tormentors, the 
thaw spirits. They had been unusually 
busy, so, separating into bands we scat- 
tered in all directions, some flying to 
the east, some to the south, and some to 
the west. 

'^I joined myself to a small party flying 
eastward and kept along the boundary of 
the northern sea. On our way we en- 
countered many icebergs that had broken 

59 



loose from their hold and been set afloat 
by the thaw spirits so that they drifted 
toward the southern climes and disap- 
peared before the influence of the sun- 
beams. Upon these icebergs we breathed, 
and turned them aside from their course 
by hardening the waves around, thus 
making them standing monuments of our 
power. Whole fields of ice soon marked 
our track, and before long we touched the 
northern shores of that great continent 
whose rivers own our sway, and usually 
remain for months vast sheets of ice. 
Here, too, the thaw spirits had been at 
work, and slowly now the waters ran, 
while the far-spreading plains were satu- 
rated with moisture. These we refroze 
by a breath, and again fast bound their 
rivers. Passing southward, we powdered 
the huge mountain ranges, and held their 
torrents as they would have bounded down 

60 



the dark ravines. Moving westward, we 
crossed the mighty steppes, stiffening the 
ground and clothing the vegetation in our 
glorious raiment, till naught could be dis- 
tinguished in the wilderness of white. 
Then we proceeded northward, sweeping 
by great cities and ice-bound coasts, turn- 
ing our attention again toward the polar 
regions, leaving a glorious tract behind us 
and raising glittering monuments in our 
honor, to astonish the marvelling eyes of" 
northern explorers by their magnificence 
and splendor. 

'^On all sides we defeated our enemies. 
Even the sunbeam's smile waxed pale and 
wan before us as we proceeded in our 
triumphal career. 

"And from these northern regions I 
hurried to be present at this gathering of 
the frost elves, arriving but just in time - 
to be selected by the elders as one of the 

61 



privileged band honored by your Majesty's 
most gracious inspection and choice." 

He ceased, and bowing low before the 
king withdrew a step or so, whilst the 
second elf, who had remained silent and 
motionless during the recital, now, at a 
sign from the king, stepped forward and 
began : 

SECOND elf's story. 

^'I was sent forth at the same time as 
my brother, but joining a band journeying 
southward, soon found myself flying over 
♦ the land of the Lapp, and heard the tink- 
ling of the sleigh bells ringing out on the 
frosty air as the reindeer, with the speed 
of the wind, drew his master over the 
slippery ground. 

'^Next, a range of snow-capped moun- 
tains met my view. Descending, we saw 
a party of men toiling up their dangerous 
sides; dangerous, indeed, for the thaw 

62 



spirits had been busy among the moun- 
tains, and many a huge boulder of ice had 
been loosened from its stronghold, and was 
ready, at the faintest sound, to thunder 
down the heights into the peaceful valleys 
below, swallowing up the party in its 
descent, and destroying many a pictur- 
esque chalet and honest household in its 
terrific plunge. To prevent these evils, 
we regirt the mountains with the fastness 
of our strength; and having thus secured 
the safety of the mountaineer, passed 
eastward, and visited mortals in their 
great dark cities. 

''Into one of these cities I flew one night, 
and passing over the broad squares and 
gardens of the rich, entered into the nar- 
row alleys of the poor. Herds of mankind, 
in the most degraded condition, were con- 
tinually passing to and fro, discordant 
sounds filled the air, the streets and houses 

63 



were polluted and foul, filth and disease 
stalked abroad and saturated the atmo- 
sphere with their obnoxious odors. 

^'I hardened the soft, miry roads, dried 
up the noxious moisture, and rendering 
the murky air keen and frosty, killed the 
germs of disease that floated on every side. 
I whitened with snowy feathers the houses, 
sidewalks, and gutters; then, creeping 
through a broken windowpane, found 
myself in a dark attic, bare and empty, 
save for a broken chair and a filthy straw 
mattress whereon lay the shrunken form 
of a little boy. He was in the height of 
fever, his lips were parched and dry as he 
lay tossing and moaning in delirium. A 
broken cup lay on the floor beside him. 
I looked into it — it was empty. I stooped 
over him; he was alone and friendless, no 
one to care for him, no one to soothe his 
pain. Better to be out of the world than 

64 



to live on in it, so I kissed his hot fore- 
head and burning lips, breathed on his 
face and chest, and touched the heart that 
beat so wildly. Then all was still — he fell 
into that slumber from which there is no 
awakening. 

'^My work there was done, so on I 
journeyed. Entering next a park, I froze 
its ponds so that the children of mortals 
might enjoy the delights of the season, 
and passing on by stately mansions, I 
espied the form of a woman crouching on 
the broad steps that led up to the en- 
trance of one of these grand dwellings. 
Light and laughter poured forth from the 
many windows, but outside all was dark 
and drear. I drew near to the woman, 
and saw that she was dead — some one had 
been before me; but the babe upon her 
breast yet lived, its puny face turned 
upward to the frost 5^ night. I kissed its 

65 



lips and drew its breath away — its soul 
was free to join its mother's. 

'^I arose and behold a frost maiden 
stood before me. 

'' 'You have finished my work/ she said, 
'poor things! they are better off now, 
happier perhaps than those beyond yon 
lighted windows.' Thus speaking, we flew 
on together through the night, out of the 
city, and on toward this forest to which 
all your Majesty's faithful subjects were 
summoned to appear." 

So ended the second elf's story. 

Then the old king arose and thus 
addressed his subjects: — 

"You have all heard these two elves 
record the history of their adventures; 
both have done good, useful work, and are 
entitled to our highest praise; but I com- 
mend to you the second elf, whose kindly 
spirit and thoughtfulness for others have 

66 



guided all his actions, and directed him 
to seek his work in filthy alleys and fever- 
smitten atmosphere. The safety and good 
of others, the happiness and comfort of 
the poor and neglected have been his 
ruling motives. His brother's chief aim, 
on the contrary, was ambition for the 
aggrandizement and glory of his race. To 
the second elf, therefore, I, with perfect 
confidence and assurance, resign my crown 
and diadem.' 

So saying, he took from his head the 
frost crown and placed it upon the white 
curling locks of the elf before him, and 
giving the star-crowned wand into his 
right hand led him to the tree knoll, bowed 
low before him and proclaimed him king. 

Then, with one accord, all the elves 
shouted with joy; whilst the young king 
arose and, bowing his acknowledgments, 
said he hoped he would prove as good a 

67 



king as he who had just resigned, and 
taking the hand of the httle frost maiden 
he had met on his journey, he led her 
before his subjects and claimed her as 
his queen. 

The band of imps then marched for- 
ward, their ice bells pealing forth while 
all the frost elves and maidens rose, and 
dancing around the tree sang : 

The world is glistening 

On every side 
With a thousand diamonds. 

This New Year tide. 

The moon is shining 

Over all; 
'Mong feathery trees 

Her pale beams fall. 

And we frost elves 

With gossamer wing. 
In a joyous circle 

Dance round our king. 

68 



For our king is good, 

And our queen is fair, 
With her flowing robes 

And her silver hair. 

So we'll dance away 

In the pale dim light, 
While the ice bells ring 

And the moon is bright. 

And then we'll creep 

Away to our beds, 
And under the leaves 

Hide our weary heads. 

Our king is elected. 

Our time is o'er. 
And we must away — 

We msij dance no more. 

The moon waxed pale, but before the 
last rays had faded the glade was empty 
and deserted, for the little frost elves had 
all flown away to their beds. 

69 




anti 



THE MOONBEAMS AND THE 
DEWDROPS. 

Lightly play the moonbeams over the 
quiet surface of the lake, silvering its 
bosom and flitting with pale brilliancy in- 
to the deepest shadows. Intensely white 
and beautiful they stream forth in virgin 
chastity from their lunar source and 
speed through the unbroken indigo of the 
chill, dark night. Earth sleeps peacefully, 
nor does the faint radiance of the moon- 
light disturb her repose. 

On the margin of the lake, fringing the 
water's edge, are grasses and reeds of wild 
and luxuriant growth. ^^ Ah,'' sighed a large 
dewdrop, plaintively, as it glistened on the 
narrow surface of an overladen grass blade, 
'^how much I would give to drop into 
the silver bosom of the lake beneath me!" 

73 



^^ And why?'' inquired the soft voice 
of a moonbeam, gliding with her com- 
panion at this moment over the mur- 
murer's bending support. 

^^ Why! Because it is so smooth and 
beautiful — so wide, so vast, so wondrously 
fair. Oh, to feel myself falling into the 
molten liquid silverness, to be swallowed 
up, to become part of it, and to spread 
myself out also beneath the lustre of the 
pale, cold moon? " 

^^ Do we not shed our lustre on you as 
you are? Do you not sparkle and glisten 
like glassy crystals as you hang suspended 
from every blade and spray and leaflet? 
Why so ill- content? A happy and a 
beauteous lot is yours. Why grumble 
that the task set you is to nourish your 
green support and to strengthen it 
against the heat and dryness of the 
coming day. Be contented with your 

74 



present state until you have gained 
from it all it has to give, nor seek to 
change your lot till you have exhausted 
its opportunities and reaped all its 
advantages." 

^^But I am not content. Why should 
I not become that which I would be? 
Why should I not drop headlong into 
the silver mirror that spreads so invit- 
ingly below — 'twould not be far to fall? 
Oh, that my weight would bend the grass 
still lower so that I might overbalance 
and fall, fall with rapture into the bosom 
of my desire.' ' 

^Toolish dewdrop, foolish child of 
earth's production; contrary as the vari- 
ous sources of your being. Know that 
you are now even as that gleaming 
expanse — a drop of water, water the same 
as that of which the lake there is com- 
posed. And why do the waters gleam 

75 



in silvery whiteness? Their glory is not 
their own^ but the pure, pale radiance 
that we children of the raoon shed over 
the sea and land. Clear and resplendent 
you yourself at this moment appear, even 
as the surface of the lake you so foolishly 
and ignorantly envy." 

In vain did the moonbeam strive to 
stem the current of the dewdrop's dis- 
content. Swelling with wilfulness and 
pride, it grew and trembled on its fragile 
resting-place. The night wind stirred 
from sleep, and as he moved restlessly 
through the trees he caught the sigh of 
the murmurer and heard its low com- 
plaint — '^Oh, that I might fall into the 
lake beneath me and leave this lonely 
blade of grass." 

^Thou art foolish," he muttered, '^fool- 
ish and discontented. Go and learn 
through experience, wisdom." 

76 



Down, down, a drop of liquid light it 
fell, till with a faint splash it reached the 
waters beneath. 

'^Ah,'^ sighed the moonbeam, ^^error 
and self-made unhappiness enter even 
here." 

A cloud for a moment obscured the 
moon, and when again the moonbeams 
glimmered forth they fell with renewed 
radiance upon the silent earth. 

'^How softly the moonbeams shine,'' 
murmured a dewdrop, as it nestled in the 
bosom of a rose-leaf. 

''And how fair and pure their love- 
liness," answered another. 

''Night is gloomy and soulless without 
them," added a third. 

"Without their silvery smiles, it is 
weary waiting for the rising of the sun," 
joined in yet another. 

"Yes," returned the first, gleaming on 

77 



her rose-leaf bed, ^'but the leaves have 
need of us; they would droop and wither 
in the sun's great heat if it were not for 
our cool, refreshing moisture." 

'True," another answered, ''night is 
the great renewer and reviver of the 
Earth. For my part, I love the silvery 
moonbeams more even than I love the 
sunbeam's golden glory; the one draws 
us out and encourages us; the other 
chases us away from our leafy resting- 
places into the darkness of the earth." 

"Nay, they do not so; they draw us 
into the floating atmosphere. Speak not 
harshly of the sunbeams; they are glori- 
ous and needful to the day." 

"I know," returned the dewdrop. 
"But see, here come two gleaming rays to 
flood us with their beauty." 

Even as she spoke, the two moonbeams 
passed from witnessing the fall of the 

78 



wilful dewdrop by the water's brink, and 
shone in all their loveliness upon the 
cluster of dewbeads gathered upon the 
wild-rose spray. 

'^A happy group/' quoth the first new- 
comer, as she wound herself in and out of 
the delicate leaflets, causing the clustering 
dew to flash like the diamonds in a lady's 
tiara. 

^'A happy group," she murmured as 
she kissed the sparkling drops. 

^'How can we fail to be? See how fair 
the leaves we rest upon, their dainty 
veins and tenderly clipped edges. We 
joyfully rest upon their fresh young 
bosoms, both glad and proud to strengthen 
their glowing vigor and brighten the 
verdure of their youth." 

'^Such is the cause and reason of our 
present existence," continued another. 
''A dainty life to lie swathed in the folds 

79 



of a rose-leaf, bathed in the halo of the 
summer moon!" 

^^You are then contented and happy 
with your simple lot, and seek no further 
glories?" And the moonbeam caressed 
softly the dew-bespangled rose tree. 

'^Contented — how can we be otherwise? 
What further glories should we seek? ' 

''None. None is greater than that of 
fulfilling whatever duty is set before you. 
Those who seek to change the lot Nature 
has appointed them invariably go astray, 
and learn to value wisdom when it comes 
too late." 

''Where gleanest thou thy knowledge, 
daughter of the moon? Do the stars 
teach thee in thy silent flight? Or is it 
from this earth of ours thou drawest 
those draughts of wisdom so profound?" 

"From each and all must one learn 
something; none are so small or so insig- 

80 



nificant but that they have a great 
truth to unfold. But see, our light 
grows dim, the gray dawn soon breaks in 
the east, the time of the sun's awaking i^ 
at hand. Soon golden heralds will pro- 
claim the morn, and you will be bathed in 
the glory of reopening day. Our time is 
short, and we wax faint and wan; we 
must again to starry space. Farewell, 
farewell. Remember this always : a work 
is yours, a truth is yours, in whatever 
form you may exist; do with it, deal 
with it, even in that way in which it was 
meant. Your drop of existence is part of 
the whole of existence ; keep this in mind, 
and live out the existence which is yours, 
to the fulfillment and glorification of the 
great and glorious Whole. Farewell, 
farewell." 

Fainter and fainter waxed their light as 
they retreated slowly to the far off starry 

81 



heights, while the dewdrops heralded the 
coming day with a chorus of a faint 
'' Farewell/' 







82 



VII. 



C|)e astrtf) of t\)t Wimsi, 



THE BIRTH OF THE WINDS. 

'Twas the birth of the winds. — 

As they struggled on high 

In the mighty, vast womb of heaven, 
Creation moaned with impatient sigh, 

"What offspring to us is given 
That will cause this voiceless life to cry, 

And the mists of earth to be riven?" 

'Twas the birth of the winds. — 
First issued the north. 

And the universe stood in awe, 
As with blustering breath emerged he forth 

With the whirlwind's thundering roar; 
And launched away on his boisterous path. 

Hilarious, exulting to soar. 

'Twas the birth of the winds. — 

Next, the summer breeze fanned 
And breathed itself into night, 

85 



As warm and soft o'er a southern land, 

It weltered in liquid light; 
Or, scorched with the heat of a tropic 
sand, 

Warmed the chill of the northern night. 

'Twas the birth of the winds. — 

And when piercingly keen 

From the east a bitter blast blew. 
Creation shuddered, and sought to screen 

Itself, as the hurricane grew; 
For he withered all in their freshest green. 

As, a baneful blight, he flew. 

'Twas the birth of the winds. — 

When from out of the west 

Wafted the zephyr breeze free. 
All earth rejoiced in its balmy rest. 

Its moist soft breath of the sea; 
Declaring the younger wind was the best 

As it floated o'er town and lea. 



86 




Cfje f cicle. 



THE ICICLE. 

She was a beautiful thing, clear as 
crystal, pure and transparent as glass, 
graceful and fantastic in form, delicately 
and wonderfully fair in her glittering 
loveliness and icy beauty. 

She hung suspended from the dark 
bough of a giant oak in the midst of a 
sparkling feathery frost world, and she 
far surpassed her fair sisters who clustered 
in graceful groups and fantastic assort- 
ment from every branch and spray around. 

So at least thought the sunbeam, as 
he wound his way through the overhang- 
ing boughs, and gradually crept closer to 
the fair object of his admiration. 

They saw him coming, those ice maid- 
ens; watched him drawing nearer and 
nearer into their midst; and each did her 

89 



best to outshine her sisters and appear 
most beautiful to his radiant eyes. 

She saw him; and as the light of his 
presence fell athwart her, she flashed 
with a thousand prisms in his sight. 

^^0, crystal maiden, how fair, how 
beautiful is your glittering resplendancy!" 

The proud heart of the ice maiden 
swelled with exultation as the words of 
the sunbeam fell upon her ear. Cold 
she was, and cold she had been to the 
many wooers who had sought her favor. 
The frost, her cousin, she had scorned in 
high disdain, though he had pressed her 
hard in the strength of his attachment. 
The wintry fog had encompassed her 
around, but she had remained proof 
against his encircling charms. The north 
wind had assailed her and wooed her 
with his chilly breath. The spirits of the 
hail and sleet had striven to impress her 

90 



with their worth ; but all to no purpose — 
she had remained impregnable and 
indifferent to them all. 

But now there comes another, not only 
equally persistent in his wooing, but more 
passionate in his ardor, more flattering in 
his speech, and more dangerous in the 
heat of his desire. She trembles at his 
approach, and quails her hard and glitter- 
ing breast. His voice, soft and seductive 
as the Summer wind, moves her strangely 
with its warm impassioned tones; his 
admiration stirs her soul and breaks 
down the once firm barrier of indifference 
and reserve. 

'^Sweet maid, the delicacy of your fan- 
tastic shape, the splendor of your lustrous 
beauty delight me ! How bluey white the 
edges of your jagged form, the drooping 
fringe of your icy drapery! How you 
glisten in my eyes ! I saw you from my 

91 



parent home; your matchless beauty 
fired my soul; I craved to see you near, 
to look upon your loveliness and bathe 
you in my love. Ice maiden, hear me! 
Fair daughter of the Winter, let me but 
touch your snowy lips!" 

^'Beware! fair cousin," cried the frost. 
''A kiss from him is death. Beware! the 
false deceiver would rob you of your life 
and beauty!" 

But, quivering with triumph and de- 
light, the foolish ice maiden listened to 
the assiduous flatterer, and, heedless of 
her cousin's words, scorning the warning 
cry of Nature, yielded to the bright 
tempter, who, creeping nearer and nearer, 
at last enveloped her in his encircling 
rays, and pressed his burning kisses on 
her fair, white, chilly lips. 

Ah me! his touch was fatal. She felt it 
sink down deep into her being, draining 

92 



her strength, ,'i,i)(l wciakonirifi; Ikt vitnJity. 
His nrms enshrouded })(!r, \m influ(!nce 
sucked her very soul. Weak an (J faint 
she lapsed in his embrace — each burning 
caress ni(;Itir)f^ body and spirit together. 
Her sisters groaned and treiribkul on their 
boughs; the frost, defeated and powerless 
against the fatal passion of fiis rivaJ, fhnl 
away, as th(5 once beauteous queen of the 
ice world, dissolving into liquid, sank 
undone and uncreated ag.'dn into the 
watery element whence she sprang. 



93 



IX. 



I^orltis tfjat so 9Srtgf)t 
9lppear» 



WORLDS THAT SO BRIGHT APPEAR. 

Worlds that so bright appear, 

Burnished with hght 
High o'er the waters drear 

Through the long night. 

Worlds of another clime 

Strange to this earth, 
Long, long before our time 

Dated their birth. 

Worlds hung in sapphire space. 

Vividly clear. 
Worlds that the human race 

Once did revere. 

Worlds that each sect and tongue 

Marvel to see. 
Wondering from whence they sprung 

So mightily. 

Worlds, great thy mystery! 

Yet ever to be 
Shining reality 

Lighting life's sea. 

97 




X. 



C|)isteltio\Dn. 



LofC. 



THISTLEDOWN. 

Puff! blew the wind, and away they 
went in a mad medley of delight. The 
air was filled with them, whirling, float- 
ing, dancing, rollicking hither and thither, 
like a flock of downy feathers, the sun- 
shine bathing them in his splendor, the 
wind luring them in a thousand different 
directions with his irresistible and per- 
suasive breath. 

'^ Foolish innocents," quoth the wrath- 
ful thistle-tree ; ''keep at home, I say! 
The wanton wind lureth you to your 
destruction; be content, nor seek to 
roam — my bosom is your safest shelter, 
my weaponed arm your sure retreat. " 

But away they went, heedless of their 
parent's angry expostulation ; and leaving 
their fluffy bed amidst her prickles, 

101 



launched forth upon the pinions of the 
wind. 

^'Whither away? " cried a butterfiy. 
passing them in her flight. 

'To see the world, and to follow our 
own sweet wills!" replied they, soaring 
higher with exultation. 

"Make the most of ^''our time, then!'' 
returned the bright-winged creature, flit- 
ting to a distant flower. 

^^Ah!" responded the thistledown in 
chorus, '^we will, we will. Blow, wind, 
blow! and waft us to some stranger spot." 

But the breeze had for the while 
dropped, and after floating aimlessly 
about for a space, they sank disconsolate 
upon the grassy mead. 

But only for a moment. On they 
went again, caught by the rising eddy, 
and carried on, on, they knew not 
whither. 

102 



'This is delightful!" they cried, mad 
with intoxicating revelry; but like all 
earthly passions, it was doomed at last 
to cease. 

Down dropped the wind again, and 
this time for good; the sun sank lower 
in the west, and then — ah, then? The^ 
had left their home and shelter — their 
parent's parting words came back to 
them, ''the wind lureth you to your de- 
struction." The dew would fall and they 
would be soaked, drenched, dishevelled, 
out of shape and life — their snowy fair- 
ness gone — their fluffy lightness utterly 
destroyed — weighed down and dragged to 
earth — soiled, polluted, and undone. 
Light and frivolous as they were, the 
heavy truth bore down upon them and 
crushed them with its weight. Careless 
and gay as a mortal's thoughtless word, 

103 



they heedlessly left their parent's shelter- 
ing breast, and now — now ? 

A flock of birds at this moment flew 
out from some neighboring trees and 
alighted upon the bushes around. 

'^ See here ! " cried one to her mate ; 
^' see here what treasure I have found ! " 
And she fluttered with pleasure around a 
knot of thistledown that had clustered 
about a thorny bough. 

" See here what I have found ! — a soft, 
warm lining for our little nest ; see here ! 
a bunch of fluffy thistledown ! Come, 
sweet, and help me carry it away." 

Fluttering with delight, the little birds 
then set to work and had soon conveyed 
the silent yet grateful thistledown to their 
home in a lofty tree. 

''Ah, this is fortunate !" it sighed as it 
was cunningly woven together with 

104 



feather-fluff and wool into the warm inner 
coating of the wild bird's nest. 

" It is very comfortable," remarked the 
wool complacently. 

'' Yes," joined in the feather-fluff, "and 
very cozy." 

"It is delightful! — a haven of shelter!" 
continued the thistledown, warmly; "here 
we shall be safe from the falling dew and 
the damp, moist earth; no rain can reach 
us now, screened by the brown bosom of 
the gentle bird." 

^The rain is certainly disagreeable, and 
the dew is hardly less so," replied the 
wool; "I feared when the bramble tore 
me from the back of the sheep that I 
should be left to the mercy of the ele- 
ments, but the eager eyes of the songster 
spied me, and he bore me hither to my 
great relief." 

"And we," returned the thistledown, 

105 



''we left our parent and our home to float 
upon the sun-kissed breeze; it blew us 
here and there and we were in delight, 
when lo ! — it sank, and left us to drift on 
until we were caught in the toils of a 
thorny shrub, where the night dew would 
have drenched us and washed our life 
away." 

"These terrors of which you speak I 
have never heard of before ; plucked from 
the tender bosom I so warmly clad, I was 
without ado placed here to help line this 
nest — for what reason I cannot say. But 
ah! " 

Full soon the questioning of the feather- 
fluff was answered, full soon the reason of 
their having been borne hither was ex- 
plained; — three little blue eggs reposed 
upon their downy softness. And warm 
and snug they lay for many a day, till, 
one b^^ifi^ht morn, the little nest was all 

106 



alive — the eggs had vanished, and in their 
place were three little wide-beaked birds. 
Ah me ! how they loved their home ; and 
how cozy the downy lining of the nest 
would keep them while their parents 
fetched them food I 

"We have not lived in vain/' said the 
sheep's wool one day when the young 
birds had grown and one had left the nest, 
soon to be followed by the others. 

^^We have not lived in vain, '' he again 
remarked when the nest was empty and 
the birds had flown. 

"No," responded the thistledown; 
''Nature saw our repentance, forgave our 
former wilfulness, and set us other work to 
do. Our task is now completed, we can 
do no more." 

"Ah," joined in the feather-fluff sadly, 
"our time is over, we are not what we 
were." 

107 



"No," said the thistledown, now soiled 
and flattened with the constant pressure 
of the new-flown fledglings, ''we are no 
longer what we were ; still, it is a comfort 
in our slow decay to feel that our diso- 
bedience was forgiven, and that although 
so small and insignificant, we have been 
after all of some use in the vastness of the 
great world's wants; and who knows, who 
knows to what use we may yet be put." 

The summer passed, the rough winds 
blew, the late rains fell, the thistle-tree 
was struck to earth, and the little nest in 
the spreading branches of the sturdy 
forest elm was soaked, torn and shaken to 
the ground, where it lay the winter 
through, sheltering from the bitter frost 
the delicate roots of a wood violet that 
grew at the foot of the great elm-tree. 



108 



XI. 



^ Wffitt ^ans?* 



A WHITE PANSY. 

'Twas one August morn when earth lay 

fair 
And blushing with flowers that scented 

the air, 
That a little white blossom first opened its 

leaves, 
And drank in the breath of earth's sweet 

scented sheaves. 

A little white pansy, so fair and frail, 
Too lovely and pure for life's harsher gale, 
It bloomed for a space, then closed up 

again, 
And the little white thought passed out, 

to remain- 
Ill 




\Deetpea0* 



SWEETPEAS. 

Sweetpeas are a well-known family, 
easily recognized by the loving affection 
through which the members cling to each 
other and to all with which they come in 
contact; also by the rare gentleness of 
their dispositions, so remarkable as to 
have caused Flora, in the days of the 
flower creation, to pronounce her blessing 
upon them, and, in addition to their 
elegant, shapely, and rich tinted beauty, 
to endow them with a marvelously 
fragrant perfume, like to the influence of 
a soul beaming with the radiance of 
unselfish thoughts. 

The blossoms, the daughters of the 
tribe, are lovely in the extreme, and noted, 
in the flower world, for the richness of 
their beauty. There are the blondes — 

115 



fair virgins of spotless hue and simplicity, 
through whose pure fragile lovehness the 
golden eye, characteristic of the species, 
shines mildly and gently forth. Some 
are robed entirely in white, or with a 
narrow band of purple or crimson edging 
the delicate outlines of their light and 
graceful forms. They stand on the 
parent stem like downy snow flakes, 
etherealizecl, and yet materialized towith- 
stand the smiles and kisses of the summer 
sun. Others are clothed in pink, from 
the deepest shades of carmine to the palest 
and most delicate tints of rose that ever 
tinged a sea-shell ; others again are tinted 
with blue and mauve or even a suspicion 
of heliotrope; and some, dusky maidens, 
are radiant in a mottled variety of color, 
or dusty with purple and crimson powder 
scattered upon their satin skins like the 
down on the wings of a beautifully 
speckled butterfly. 

116 



Then there are the brunettes; dark, 
glorious blossoms, whose rich beauty and 
velvety voluptuousness are so glowingly 
lovely in the profusion and gorgeousness 
of their blue-black and crimson-purple 
tints. Wondrously beautiful, all of them; 
growing, mixing, clinging together in 
every conceivable variety of shade and 
hue, the richness of their perfume pervad- 
ing the air around and drawing the bees 
and the butterflies to revel in the delicious- 
ness and luxuriance of their bountiful 
sweetness. 

How beautiful they are ! green, sway- 
ing, curling stems, bending at will and 
accommodating themselves to all circum- 
stances, yet bearing their lovely offsprings 
gracefully, contentedly, happily and 
proudly. 

No wonder Flora loves them and ranks 
them among the choicest and sweetest of 

117 



her children. Besides, their beauty and 
perfume often bring comfort and dehght 
into the careworn hearts and lives of 
struggling men, who hail them as messen- 
gers of peacefulness and love, summoning 
memories of fields and trees, deep blue 
skies and bright warm sunshine. 

No idle or useless life lead these 
fragrant blossoms ; and all things living in 
the role of Nature, whether great or small, 
each has its allotted task, its share in the 
great world's movements, workings, and 
evolutions; and each simple flower, as it 
glances in the sun, or raises its head grate- 
fully to drink of the refreshing showers, 
has a place and a portion in the mighty 
book of existence, and lives and grows an 
individual destiny. Not the least of its 
graceful acts is the loving encouragement 
which it gives to toiling men and women 
who strive with even greater cares. In 

118 



this is it not indeed a helper and a joy- 
giving companion? And shares it not the 
live-giving spirit of love in the human 
heart? 




IVJ 



XIII. 



eretiata. 



SERENATA. 

I see thee, maiden, stand before me 

In waves of silver light, 
The cool night breeze as it sweeps thy hair, 

Sigheth with pure delight. 
I see the veil of the filmy moon 

Around thy vision cling, 
And the blue hued stars look down and 
smile 

Upon so fair a thing. 

The gathering night spreads her cloud 
afar. 

Though wedded to the moon; 
In the forest I hear the night owl screech, 

On the shore the ocean's boom. 
child of earth, with thine eyes of night 
And figure of sylph-like form, 
As the elements wild the emotions stir 



123 



And burst in terrific storm, 
Of a passion that like the cyclone swells 

My tongue would tell to thee, 
Of a love that is great as the ocean wide 

In its vast immensity. 
The earth is still, and the night wind 
sighs 

As I my love declare 
And lay my heart at thy fair young feet, 

My Queen, beyond compare! 




124 




XIV. 



C|)e iLeaf Cities, 



THE LEAF-ELVES. 

Winter is over; the snow has disap- 
peared from the ground, and the frost 
from the pane; the rivers and streams, 
bursting their prison bonds, bound forth 
limpid and joyous once more, each rippling 
wavelet murmuring its jubilant song and 
coquettishly raising its crested lips to 
meet the kisses of the wanton wind. The 
naked forest trees, that for so many 
months past have stood like giant spectres 
tossing their gaunt arms in the wintry 
storm, now spread their branches and sway 
gracefully before the fresh spring breeze 
as it rustles through the labyrinth of 
delicate sprays that form so fantastic a 
network against the clear blue sky. 

The warm, pregnant beams of the life- 
giving sun come stealing forth, and 

127 



caressing each brown shining leaf-bud, 
burst it open at a touch, reveahng the 
wee leaf-elf lying curled up inside, whose 
pale eyes blink with wonderment as they 
gaze for the first time on the light of day. 

Such is the birth of the leaf -elf ; and as 
the leaf that is born with him unfolds, 
and grows stouter and deeper in texture 
and color, even so does he himself expand 
and develop into fullness and maturity, 
keeping pace with his parental cradle 
and home. 

At first the Spring breezes strike chilly 
to the tender little sprite; so, wrapping 
himself in the tiny folds of his bright 
green mantle, he awaits the warmth and 
brightness of the friendly rays before 
venturing out to sport with his com- 
panions. Each leaf, we see, has its little 
fay ; and as the days brighten and lengthen 
the elves come forth in myriads and perch 

128 



upon the twigs and branches, bounding 
from leaf to leaf, swaying from spray to 
spray, playing a rare game of hide and 
seek with the sunbeams. At night, each 
elf curls his leaf around him, and thus 
sheltered, sleeps securely, rocked by the 
night winds as they pass mournfully 
through the silent labyrinth of darkness, 
like restless spirits visiting in gloom the 
land of embodiment and material life. 

As the summer advances, the leaves 
and their little inhabitants assume a richer, 
if more sombre tint, for they are scorched 
by the strong rays of the sun while bask- 
ing in its sleepy radiance — the languid 
wind scarce stirring a twig or stem in the 
voluptuous stillness of the summer heat. 

Many are the duties of the leaf -elves. 
They must pay unceasing attention to the 
welfare and appearance of their airy little 
homes. Carefully they comb out the fine 

129 



flbrine down, upon the surface of the 
leaves, and duly curl and uncurl the deli- 
cate edges, catching the dew as it falls and 
tenderly applying it to the sensitive pores, 
and so cooling and refreshing their vitality 
after the dust and glare of the day. Many 
enemies of the insect tribe have they to 
contend with, against whom they wage 
perpetual warfare — caterpillars that de- 
vour their dwellings ; flies and gnats that 
lay their poisoned eggs beneath the del- 
icate upper skin of the foliage, and raise 
a blister on its smooth, fair surface, or 
sow seeds of disease that soon consume it 
altogether. So the greatest care has to 
be exercised to preserve the leaves from 
the wary attacks of these insect foes ; and 
should an elf fail in his guardianship, 
death or disfigurement come upon him 
and upon the poor leaf which he should 
have protected ; for disease and decay are 

130 



reflected from the leaf to the elf himself, 
and sad it is when they fall a prey to the 
enemy, especially before the great event 
of their life takes place. 

What is this great event? It is nature's 
carnival, occuring in the autumn, when all 
the foliage of the earth is dressed in rich, 
vivid autumnal tints. Then it is that the 
army of resplendent leaves awaits the 
rising of the boisterous gale, at whose call 
they all give answer, and quitting forever 
their hold upon the parent tree, bound 
joyously forth upon the wings of their 
allurer, hovering for awhile between 
earth and sky, then caught by the next 
eddy are again spurned wildly aloft, each 
elf riding astride his individual leaf, laugh- 
ing and singing and jostling his neighbor 
in this mad but life-closing revelry; for, 
at last, the wind subsides, the autumn 
mists arise and spread their damp breath 

131 



around, and the leaves and leaf-elves 
lie heaped in dank, unsightly masses, 
slowly going through the process of decay 
and awaiting the ebbing of their leaf-day 
life to become absorbed once more in the 
all-supplying ocean of natural force. 



132 



XV. 



i^orma. 



NORMA. 

I 

The sun had set. The after-glow 

Gleamed softly with a roseate light. 

In fiery flakes of fleecy foam 

The bosom of the western sky lay veiled. 

O'er all a deep pulsating hush slow spread, 

As though the evening waited for the 

night. 
When lo ! most rudely broken was the calm 
Of eve by one low plaintive wail that 

stirred 
The heart of Nature from her rest, 
And fixed in keen attention her great soul. 

''0 Midnight! darker than thy blackest 

shade 
Is the dread depth of my despair. 
Ah me! my soul is destitute, 

135 



I cry, and drink my bitter tears, 

And choking heart-wrung sighs do burst; 

In visions dark my grief oppresses me. 

My loving, if unworthy heart, is reft 

Of light and joy, of happiness and peace; 

Anguish is now its only food. 

loving nature! in thy wilderness 

Of glowing life my voice shall pour its grief 
And cry to thee for succor and for aid. 

1 loved, I love and I was once beloved. 
And sweet the hours that passed for me 

and mine, 

Steeped as they were in Love's delicious 
fount. 

Each separate being merged in one heart- 
beat. 

Each line of thought forever twining 
round 

The other, as the tendrils of the vine 

Do twine. E'en so we lived and loved. 



136 



And perfect faith as close as clinging moss 
Did clothe in vivid verdure our true love. 

And pure it was, e'en though the deepest 

wave 
Of stirring. soul intensity swept o'er. 
And carried with it our two struggling 

hearts 
That loved so strongly, fervently and 

well. 
Then still more wholly did our souls 

become 
Into one being blended, riper still 
Became our love. My life had I laid 

down 
To benefit my dear one, and he his 
Would have laid down for me. 

His father's vow, that, 
Never should he bride bring to his home. 
Without a dowry, caused us then to live 
Reluctantly without acknowledged tie. 

137 



Alas ! Alas ! 'tis but a few days since 
There came into our beauteous vale of love 
A snake, with glittering eyes and jeweled 

scales, 
That glided through the grass and stung 

me, here. 
Its cruel fangs sank deep within my heart 
And left their poison there. My Erza was 
So dazzled by the beauty of the thing, 
He did not see my pain, nor did he heed 
Nor know the danger pending to his soul. 

He gazed and gazed, till, gazing he was 

struck 
With beauty's poison, deadlier than all. 
So subtly did the fascination work 
That by degrees he left me, and for one 
Who loves him not but who will lead him 

on, 
Enticing his pure soul with all the charms 
Of her bewild'ring evil beauty's power, 

138 



Alluring him to gain the gold 

And all the riches of his father's lands. 

Once these possessed she'll wither up his 

soul 
With cold contempt and scornful cruel 

hate, 
While I, his true love and his faithful one, 
Have power none to win him back. 

Did she but love him then mayhap my 

grief 
Would be less keen, my love might brook 

the blow 
But ! his anguish when with soul deceived 
He wakes too late to rectify his wrong! 
Nature, hear! I lay me on thy breast 
And press my beating bosom to thine own. 
Mother, soothing, tender, bountiful! 
Spare unto me of thine abundant store 
A little calm endurance, patient hope. 
Persistent courage, and the vital strength 

139 



To follow him through all his devious ways 
That with my woman's instinct I may 

grasp 
The sense of lurking foes around his path. 
Grant me the power to shield his life from 

harm; 
To shroud him with my love, e'en though 

unknown, 
That I may win his soul at last to mine, 
If such a thing may be — forevermore. 

Hear this my prayer! for mine he surely is, 
As is the child unborn both his and mine. 
I care not through what sorrows I must 

pass, 
What fearful shadows may enshroud my 

soul, 
If I may but win him back. — mercy! 

Earth, 
And grant my soul's petition or I die 
The worst of deaths — a living, life-long woe. 

140 



The voice died out in broken sobs. 

The Wind 
In keen compassion for her grief, — sighed 
Then rising on his rustling wings, — wailed : 
''Grief! grief! such grief! 
Would I could comfort thee ! 
Thy sorrows will I bear to him ; 
The voice of thy deep agony 
Shall haunt his soul, — my wings 
Shall waft it to his ear. 
Ah ! grief ! such grief ! 
Would I could comfort thee." 

''Tears! tears ! such tears! 
See how they fall ! And he 
Shall see them thus whene'er he hears 
My voice, or sees my spray," the cascade 
cried. 

"And on my bosom shall they surely flow 
Forever," murmured low the rippling 
brook ; 

141 



"Yea, to a river shall they swell and 
slide." 

"We'll look at him with thy sad, patient 

eyes," 
The flowerlets said; "and as the leaves do 

fall: 
Thy loving words in mem'ry on his heart 
Shall drop ; the breath of thy true love 
In our sweet perfume shall be borne to 

him." 

"The story of thy woe, thy heart's sad 

moan, 
Shall reach him in our songs," — so chirped 
the birds. 

The mountains lowered, the sea, the sky, 

the plain. 
Suffused in tearful mist, echoed afar : 
"Take courage, faithful heart, set to thy 

task 

142 



Of self-abandonment, and shield thy love. 
And in thy proffered breast, bared for his 

sake. 
Receive the wounds dealt by his hand, 

and prove 
The capability of thy great love. 
Take comfort to thy soul, for with one 

voice 
All things respond to thee; thy grief is 

ours; 
Acquit thee nobly, and our aid, for sure. 
Will strengthen every effort that thou 

mak'st." 

The voices ceased ; Night dropped her veil , 

and lo ! 
The prostrate figure of the maid arose ; 
And stole, a phantom gliding through the 

shade. 
So pale, so pure and lone, with such 
A rapt resolve and sadness on the face, 

143 



That like a pearl in ebon frame it shone 
Amid the masses of her cloud-like hair. 

II 

The scene changed; and broad sweeping 

lawns 
Rolled out to where rich orange groves 

and sweet, 
Delicious oleander trees 
Perfumed afar the moonlit air. 

But ah ! there was a subtler beauty near, 
Whose magic paled the splendor of the 

night. 
A white-domed palace rose amid the trees 
And on the broad, low flight of marble steps 
That led down to the terrace walk beneath, 
A woman stood. 

A visitant from the Beauty spheres 
Of loftiest, loveliest thought she seemed; 
Her slender swaying lithesome form 
Was rich in curves ; her hair a crown of gold ; 

144 



Her spotless robe took on the hue of night, 
And gleamed in bluish lustre to her feet. 
From the piazza's roof a red lamp hung, 
That shed its dim light down upon her 

face, 
Staining the steps she stood upon. 

Another to her side drew near, 
With adoration stamped upon 
His features as he bent his face 
To hers, and gently laid his hand 
Upon her bare, white sculptured arm 
That lay upon the marble balustrade. 
Without the slightest start she turned her 

eyes 
Full upon his. What bliss divine 
Was there in that deep gaze ? For lo ! he 

quailed. 
He shuddered and recoiled. Those eyes 

of blue 
Have yet more magic than they know 

well of, 

145 



And, true to the wide sky whose light 

they bear, 
Unbid, have conjured up to him 
A vision of his Norma' s face. 

Her calm look deepened, and a set surprise 
Grew out of its still depth. And then he 

spoke : 
"Forgive me! dear one," faltered his pale 

lips, 
^'Emotion overcame me, but, 'tis past. 
There is a fascination in your eyes 
I never knew before. Somehow, I think — 
But no, let be; thine eyes are perfect, 

Sweet, 
And very walls of love. Nay, look not so! 
Have I offended you? 'Twas but the 

shade 
Of some old mem'ry flashed forth in your 

gaze. 
And woke a mournful echo in my heart ; 

146 



But now 'tis past. Smile on me once 

again, 
My peerless one — lo! I am at your feet." 

''How! are my eyes so dull that they can 

bring 
But shady mem'ries to your quav'ring 

breast ? 
Is that the only joy that unto you 
My feeble beauty has the power to give?" 
She sighed ; a look of softness crossed her 

face, 
And shone reproachfully and sadly there, 
E'en though her voice had had a touch of 

scorn. 

''Nay, nay, Eudora, happiness is mine 
Whenever I am near you ! Twas but once 
And for a moment, that there came a face 
Betwixt my love and you; fear naught, 'tis 

gone. 
The night seems chilly, and is deathly still — 

147 



Why stand you here so coldly proud and 

lone?— 
The wind stirs mournfully, my spirits 

droop, — 
I crave of you some love, some little 

warmth 
To chase away the gloommess of night. 
Be not so cold ! Your beauty maddens me ! 
Press your lips once to mine! — 'tis all I 

ask." 

''All that you ask ! when other faces dwell 
And linger in your thoughts! Nay! I were 

weak 
And spiritless as you to take such love, 
And dream that it was mine. What! is 

regret 
Mixed in the passion which you say 
Burns m your breast for me? Nay then, 

return 
To her! She's fair, though weak, poor wench! 

148 



And dowerless, forsooth! Still go to her; — 
Her nerveless soul entices you, and draws 
The very manhood from your veins. 
Go then, and may her pale face comfort 
you!" 

« 

She moved away in haughty, proud disdain, 
Yet turned again to see what weight 
Her icy words had had. He, for a time 
Stood motionless, then crushed with ruth- 
less will 
The rising pangs of bitter keen remorse. 
And hugged his passion closer as he 

sprang. 
By her great beauty conquered, to her 
feet. 

^'Eudora, sweet Eudora! say not so; 
Spurn me not from you. my Love! 
How fair, how very fair you are ! What 

spell - 
Is there within the magic of your eyes? 

149 



See how your sweet enchantment draws 

my soul ! 
I burn with love, yet are you cold. 
Eudora, list! what other face can e'er 
Have charms for me, once I have yours 

* beheld? 
What form, however sylph-like in its lines, 
Can e'er compete with yours? Your snowy 

neck. 
White as the under- wing of floating swan; 
Your hair, its threads of gold a coronet ; 
Your azure eyes, deep, clear as summer 

skies — 
What other maid has glories like to you? 

None, none, you are supreme! That phan- 
tom-face. 

Pale as a lily, in its shady hair. 

Has not one sparkle of your loveliness ; 

The mournful eyes in their dark depths, 
reflect 

All shadows that ma}^ fall across the face. 

150 



Yours, yours are bright and blue, and 

sparkle keen, 
And shoot their arrows deep within my 

heart; 
Your pouting lips are rich and ripe with 

smiles. 
Be not so cruel ! You but lead me on 
With your persuasive loveliness, then cast. 
Me from you in your frozen scorn. 
Be not so heartless! Turn on me once 

more 
The favors of your lately-spoken love.' 



M 



He seized her hand — She drew it not away. 
He stooped and kissed her — and she smiled 

on him ; 
Then laughing, drew herself aside, 
'^ 'Tis late," she said, ''your father must I 

see. 
E'er I retire to rest. Come then with me. 
We'll tell him of our love, he'll give us joy — 

151 



His dearest wish is granted. Come 
The night is chilly, and the lamp burns 
dim. ' ' 

III 

''Alas! my child — my little nameless one — 
Your father has forsaken us. Poor babe! 
Your fate has cast you in a ruthless world, 
With none to welcome you, and none to 

fill 
Your little cup with overflowing love, 
Except your mother with her broken heart 
That spills its fondness and its grief 

intense 
Upon your new-born soul. Ah, helpless 

one! 
Poor little sinless babe! Your natal-day 
Breaks gloomily for you and me, alas! 
To-day I press you for the first sweet time. 
With all a mother's yearning in my soul. 
To-day life's greatest joy do I receive, 

152 



And dear heart! its greatest sorrow too, 
Endowed am I, and the same day bereft. 
Ah babe! my Httle babel — (his child and 

mine ! 
Forsaken both) your day of birth, alas, 
Great Heavens! is too — your father's wed- 
ding day." 

IV 

Ablaze with light, the white-domed palace 

stood ; 
From end to end it shone with many stars ; 
Its domes, its spires, its many pinnacles. 
Were bathed in colored warmth and flash- 
ing flame. 
The banquet hall, chief centre of the light, 
Was filled to overflowing ; many guests 
^Vere seated at the marriage feast 
Of Erza and his new-made bride. 

"We'll drink their health," the old man 
cried, 

153 



And raised his glass on high. ''We'll drink 

their health, 
My merry friends: The bridegroom and 

his bride! 
Long life, Eudora • many years 
Of wedded life and bliss be yours! 
May time deal kindly with a brow 
Where beauty's fairest touch is laid! 
You are a woman, too, of sense, of strength 
And influence, the very wife I would have 

my Ezra choose. Long life my son, 
And health and strength wherewith your 

double wealth 
You may enjoy' Pledge them again my 

friends : 
Long life unto the bridegroom and his 

bride!" 

The red wine sparkled in his cup. 

As Erza rose to thank the guests 

For the vociferous applause 

With which they hailed his father's speech. 

154 



''I thank you friends, your wishes bring us 

joy; 

Most welcome are the sentiments you show, 
Both one and all, to my fair wife and me ; — 
1 thank you in her name and in my own. 
Eudora, — Ah!" 

The red wine shook and fell 

In drops of blood from off the goblet brim. 

What form was that which glided to his 

arms? 
Whose sigh was that soft fanning on his 

cheek? 
What odor, faint and sweet, recalled in force 
That vision to his soul just then? 
Was it the perfume of the wax-like flowers 
Reposing in Eudora's bridal wreath? 

Nay, 'twas not orange blossom , shed the 

scent. 
Nor tuberose, nor yet gardenia flower ; 

155 



Those subtle perfumes, in their richness 

spake 
Of his bewitching bride alone. 
Once more he raised the cup and drank 

the toast; 
Again his hand shook and the wine was 

spilled. 
He took his seat beside his bride, and saw — 
A single lily, broken from its spray 
Among her bridal wreaths, and, pure and 

white, 
Laid down beside him on the banquet 

board. 

V 

"0 Iris, that upon your fair young head 

Your parents' sin should thus be visited! 

Fair as you are and innocent. 

And pure as snowflake dropt from heaven^ 

You're branded in the eyes of all mankind, 

And shut, an outcast, from the homes of 
men! 

156 



Heaven! the great injustice that doth 

sway 
The cruel judgment of an impure race! 

My child, by right you hold your place 

among 
The purest and most virtuous of maids ; 
Your hopes are theirs too, should be sweet 

and high, 
Your prospects bright as any cloudless sky. 
All marred alas! your rich young life 

despoiled, 
The scorned of men, an object of contempt; 
And this because the one who loves you 

most, 
Your mother, who would shield you with 

her life, 
Loved in her youth a faithless one, and 

doomed 
Your blameless innocence with her great sin ! 
This misplaced judgment on your head 

has been 

157 



To me the cruelest bitterness of all. 

I sought to shield your life, my sweet one, 

from 
The consequences of your mother's shame, 
And for that reason dwelt apart 
As much as might be from our fellow men. 
I strove to foster in your soul the love 
It early showed for Nature's loveliness. 
I smiled when pleased, when birds and 

beasts and flowers 
And scenic beauty, hills and sky and sea. 
Drew words of rapture from your youth- 
ful lips. 
Full well content was I to dwell with thee, 

My little daughter, in the solitude 
And peacefulness of quiet country life. 
And as the years slid by, and from a child 
To maidenhood I saw you bud. 
With joy I watched your beauty grow 

158 



Like some grand tree in fairness and in 

strength. 
But with far greater pride I watched your 

soul 
Encase itself like jewel in chaste gold. 
I marvelled and rejoiced that you, my child, 
Born to such wretchedness, should yet 

become 
One of earth's fairest flowers. With grate- 
ful pride 
I watched you, loved you, guided you, 

and taught. 
Yea, taught you all that I would have 

you be ; 
And shielded you from shadow of my sin. 
Lest it should dull your day, and cloud 

with gloom 

The innocence and brightness of your sky. 
But still I kept you not in ignorance 
That black deceit and sorrow stalked the 
world, 

159 



That sin could mar the fairest spot on 

earth. 
And I am glad, for it has shielded you 
In your great hour of trial and of need. 
I little thought that even here to you 
Would come love's semblance to his foe- 
man's garb ! 

My child ! love visited your mother once, 
But not in such a wicked, wanton form; 
He came in all good faith, and afterwards 
In bitter conflict fell. But unto you 
Came foulest treachery, and base 
Dishonorable intent to take 
Advantage of your innocence and youth. 
And when he knew he'd won your heart's 

best love 
He strove to lower you, through it, to sin ; 
And failing, flung the stigma of your birth 
Into your unsuspecting ears, and thought 
When love failed, shame would drive you 

to his arms. 

160 



But rooted in your innocence you stood, 
And then he broke your heart; and cast 

your love 
In cold contempt and bitter scorn aside, 
And asked you who would wed a nameless 

maid — 
Ah Heaven ! that such men should be free 

to live.'' 

'^My mother, you were more bereft than I; 
I have your faithful love to comfort me. 
I'm glad I know your secret trouble, for 
A greater solace will I strive to be. 
We'll live the more each for the oth'rs 

sake. 
And in each oth'rs grief forget our own. 
I'll ask you naught, my mother dear, of 

him 
To whom we both belong, but we will love. 
Yes, love him in our thoughts, and e'en 

forgive 

161 



The wrong that he has done us. Even he 
Must think of us sometimes, and with what 

thoughts 
We cannot say — perhaps the wrong he did 
Has borne more bitter fruit to him than 

e'en 
To you or me." 



a 



My Iris! loving child, 
If your young heart can thus forgive its 

wrongs 
I cannot then repine, for greater far 
The wrong done unto you by each of us. 
Your father loved me truly, once, until 
Another wantonly destroyed our peace, 
And wrecked our lives upon a desert 

strand. 
But my love has not changed ; I love him 

yet 
As I have always done, and always 

shall." 

162 



Vll 

'^ Oh Norma; Norma, my true faithful love! 
All earth conspires against me for the 

wrong 
I did you in my base black treachery. 
Norma, ever closest to my soul 
Has your pure spirit clung. Throughout 

the years 
Spent by deed apart from you, your voice 
Has held sweet converse through the many 

tongues 
Of earth; the babbling brooks have echoed 

free 
Your silvery laughter as it used to flow; 
As falling leaves your loving words have 

dropped 
In sweet remembrance on my saddened 

brain; 
Your smile, bright as the. sunbeam's early 

ray 
Upon the distant hills, has shone on me ; 

163 



Your tender sighs, love fraught as sum- 
mer winds 

With rich perfume, have blended with the 
breeze ; 

The shades of night recall your dusky 
hair, 

The swaying trees your lithe and graceful 
form. 

The mid-day heat speaks ever unto me, 

Of the intensity of your great love. 

But, ah! when moans the wind and howls 

the storm, 
When falls unceasingly the weeping rain, 
I see the tears of your great agony 
Wrung from the desolation of your heart 
Pierced doubly by the bitter taunts of all 
Your unrelenting and self-righteous foes; 
The grey sky darkens and lowers over 

you. 
And from the shore I hear your mournful 

moan, 

164 



And the faint wailing of your nameless 
child. 

Ah Heaven! the years go by and still my 

soul 
Is haunted with your grief and with your 

love — 
For that you love me, well I know; 
Yours was a heart that could not change 

its tone — 
Your love once given, was for aye. 
I knew it, Norma, and my love returned — 
Nay, it has never left you from the first, 
Though blinded was I with a fatal spell. 
The spell of my own base unfaithfulness; 
But my great sin has found me out, 
And through the years agone have I been 

yours, 
Yet fettered by the deed which brought 

me naught 
Save bitterness and pain. — And now, when 

most 

165 



You need protection, powerless must I 

stand 
And hear both you and her, my own sweet 

child, 
Cursed by her father e'er her life began, 
Made scoff of by the foulest of all men. 

Our child! our Iris as you named her, 
A child and yet a woman grown, most fair 
In soul, resembling you, fed by the dew 
Of truth and purity and love. — Ah! earth 
Has been a friend most merciful to her. 
The voices which with keen reproach have 

sung 
Forever in my ears, have brought pure joy 
To both of you, have nurtured in your souls 
The comfort of a sweet companionship. 

My sufferings, howsoe'er intense, are well. 
Aye, fully well deserved — but ! once more 
To see you. Norma, and to hear your voice 

166 



In loving accents breathe forgiveness 

forth — 
Ah heaven! the thought of it — all Nature 

swells 
In the anticipation of my joy, 
Could such a wild thing be. But yet I feel 
A peaceful calmness soothing my tired brain, 
The earth looks kindly at me as 
At last she softens at my grief — 
What sweet forgiveness have you breathed 

to her 
And bade her lay upon my fevered soul? 
Ah me! what lilies spring about my feet? 
Whence comes this reuniting of our souls? 
Earth is our comforter! her breast bursts 

forth 
With pure white lilies — your beloved 

flowers I 
I gather them, I press them close again — 
Their breath, your essence, gives me now 

no pain!" 

167 



I 81 



SEP 9 1903 




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